


I Know the World's a Broken Bone

by cablesscutie



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Anxiety, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-04
Updated: 2016-08-04
Packaged: 2018-07-29 08:36:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7677514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cablesscutie/pseuds/cablesscutie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kent tries, he really does.  Sometimes it even works.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Know the World's a Broken Bone

**Author's Note:**

> Got stuck in traffic on the way to work and listened to P!atD's "Northern Downpour" until it gave me massive Jack/Kent feelings and this happened during my shift!

Jack has acquired reputation as something of a sore winner. Even when they manage to eke out an OT win, Jack is sullen and withdrawn the second the cellies are over. He goes back to his hotel room after the coaches dismiss them, not even bother in to put in an appearance at the after party. Zimms only came out if their opponents had been thrashed.

Kent had, somehow, befriended the one loner on the team, and simultaneously gained a reputation as a party boy. He figured it had something to do with his crooked smile. Really, he enjoyed himself a fairly responsible amount, all things considered. Without Jack, he usually only lasted an hour, slapping teammates on the back and accepting a few shots with gusto before silently disappearing. He loved the energy in the air, the music thumping in his veins, but when he was worried about Zimms, alone in their hotel room bed, he found it hard to soak in the party atmosphere.

So Kent was barely tipsy by the time he slipped back out the front door of the raging house party and walked off towards the hotel. The air was chilly, and by the time he pushed through the revolving door, he felt sobered up, cheeks stinging sharply in the sudden heat. The elevator ride up to their floor was silent, Kent the one passenger. It was strange for a moment to hear nothing but the slide of cable and his own sniffles, echoing slightly in the emptiness.

“Zimms?” Kent called as he cracked the door open. He got no response, so he let himself in the rest of the way. “Jack.” He noticed the blankets on the far bed trembling just a bit and started kicking his sneakers off. He swapped his jeans for soft flannel PJ pants - the ones wit Penguins making snow angels that Bob had given him for Christmas - and pulled back the covers. Jack was probably trying to look like he was asleep, but the shaking of his hands and the tightness of his jaw gave him away. 

Kent sat on the edge of the bed and stroked his hand down Jack’s spine. Jack’s shoulders went tight, but the shaking subsided.

“You don’t have to baby me, Kenny,” Jack ground out. Kent pressed his palm firmer and followed the same path from the dip between Jack’s shoulder blades to the waistband of his sweats.

“I’m not. You do realize there’s a lot of gray area between babying you and leaving you to suffer, right?” Jack didn’t answer. “I hate seeing you like this.”

“Well Jesus, Kent. It’s not like I invited you to the show.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it. I just wish that everything didn’t have to hurt you like this. S’not fair.”

“Tell me about it,” Jack sighed. Kent snickered. “Stop making fun of my accent!” Jack rolled over to shoot a glare at Kent, who just smiled and lay down face to face with him. “The last thing I need is another complex,” he grumbled. Kent let out a genuine laugh, burying his face against Jack’s collarbone to muffle the sound. 

When he pulled himself back together, he curled his fingers to let his nails scratch over the fabric of Jack’s t-shirt the way he really liked. The sensation pulled a soft sound from him, and Kent was able to coax Jack into his arms, face tucked into Kent’s neck and breathing in the scent of his shower gel.

“Better?” he asked as he felt Jack going loose and sleepy.

“Kind of, yeah.”

“Good. Go to sleep, and you can call your therapist in the morning.”

“Goodnight, Kenny.”

“You too, Jack.”


End file.
